History Repeating
by Mystical Jellybeans
Summary: When Dean wakes up to the smell of bacon and a huge breakfast prepared by his brother, he knows something is seriously wrong. Season 8 AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hey there! This is my first time writing SPN fan fiction, and I'd love to hear what you think. Let me know if I should continue this!  
>Oh, this takes place in season 8, and it's AU.<p>

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><p><em>All that stood between him and Sammy was a great chasm. Of course. It could never be that easy, could it? He'd just hacked and slashed his way through a legion of monsters - demons, vampires, werewolves, hell, even zombies - and he still had to figure out a way to get over the chasm so that he could save his little brother from Alastair. He looked down, teetering dangerously close to the edge as he desperately tried to come up with a solution. He almost regretted it. From the depths, something rose - a Balrog. His day simply could not get any better. Except… Was that bacon? How could he possibly smell bacon there? Oh, of course. He'd almost forgotten about that diner in the corner, near the edge of the chasm. Great burgers. But… When had it become daytime? He could have sworn - <em>

A loud crash woke him up almost immediately. Eyes darting around, a hand gripping his knife, Dean carefully scanned the room, only relaxing once his brain slowed down enough for him to realize that he was in the bunker - in his room, he made sure to point out, a cheerful note still contained in the thought - which was basically impenetrable. Sam was probably up to something, maybe still working through the Men of Letters' files. He had nothing to worry about.

Leaning back on his bed once again, the knife now back in its place by his bed, Dean closed his eyes, still in awe that a mattress could be so comfortable. He felt like he could just lay there for the rest of his life, never budge, never move a muscle. He loved his room, he loved his bed. He almost felt as if that moment couldn't (realistically) get any better. He was comfortable, cozy, well-rested, nothing hurt, it was great. But he was wrong. The smell of bacon hit him once again, and his stomach growled appreciatively, something he knew was a warning that he should get off his ass and go down to the kitchen if he didn't want to have to deal with a much more annoying kind of growling. Bacon, that could make that moment better. Begrudgingly, he obeyed his stomach's wishes, pushing himself off his bed and slowly making his way towards the door.

But wait - what? He stopped on his tracks as his brain started to process the information more coherently, the sleep fog slowly clearing from his mind. Someone was cooking bacon in the bunker. It obviously wasn't him, which only left Sammy. Was Sam actually cooking? And bacon, of all things? Something was very wrong. Oh, no. He'd said the previous night that he might go into the nearest city to get some exercise. Had he crashed his baby? That would explain it.

Hurriedly, Dean made his way to the kitchen, his mouth watering more and more at the smell of one of his favorite foods, but he ignored it for the time being. There would be plenty of time for eating once he established that his baby was fine. "Morning, Sam." He greeted his brother as he entered the room, almost forgetting all about his suspicions at the sight of Sam hunched over the stove, making breakfast. This was a whole new kind of weird.

"Morning, Dean. You're just in time - go ahead, dig in." Sam poured the bacon into a big dish and carried it to the living room, barely even looking at his brother in his haste to get everything done. Something was definitely wrong, and Dean was starting to think that it had nothing to do with his car.

He slowly followed his brother, watching his every movement very carefully, trying to figure out what could possibly have inspired this breakfast-cooking. "Uhm… Sammy?" He called, testing his ground. When his brother simply glanced back at him, an innocent look on his puppy-dog eyes, he continued. "Is everything okay?"

If it'd been anyone but Dean analyzing his reaction, they would have seen nothing wrong and possibly dropped it, dismissing it as Sam just having woken up on the right side of his bed. But it was Dean, and he knew his brother better than anyone else, so he noticed how he averted his eyes for only a split of a second, he noticed how his muscles tense up ever so slightly, and most of all, he caught the small moment of hesitation before he spoke. "Yes, of course, Dean. Can't I do something nice for my brother every once in a while?"

No, Dean thought, giving Sam a good once over, trying to see if he could catch any hints of whatever he was hiding, his thoughts rushing through his brain so quickly he felt like he'd pressed the fast-forward button. No, Sammy couldn't do something nice like that out of blue because it just wasn't him, so it had to mean that something was wrong, and they'd just gotten some downtime and Dean was loving it and damn it, he didn't want anything to ruin it.

"If something happened to my baby when you took her to town today, Sammy, so help me…" He didn't have to finish his threat, he was sure that Sam already knew what would happen to him if Dean found even as much as a scratch on the Impala's paint job.

A small chuckle escaped Sam's lips, but Dean could still feel some tension coming from his brother. "Relax, Dean. The Impala is fine."

Part of him felt like he should continue questioning his brother, but he wanted to believe him, he really did, so he decided to just let it go for the moment. Maybe he was just doing something nice, maybe Dean was imagining all those signs that raised giant red flags in his mind. Maybe everything was alright for once. Besides, he thought, the bacon was calling to him. "She'd better be." He gave his little brother a warning look and sat down at the table, eyeing the dishes hungrily.

The rest of the day was spent in a state of constant suspicion for Dean, who was always analyzing his little brother, reading into every action. And Sam didn't get any less weird, either, though his niceties were certainly better disguised. If the breakfast incident hadn't put Dean on high alert, he would most probably have never noticed that anything was truly off - it was little things, like not pestering him about loud music, making a bit less of a face at Dean's favorite magazines, insisting a little less on having Dean do some research himself. It was all having almost the opposite effect of what he imagined Sam was going for - it wasn't that he wasn't enjoying it, he was, but it was also driving him up the walls. Something was wrong, that much was obvious.

It was only when Sam insisted on cooking burgers for dinner that Dean finally cracked. "Okay, Sammy, that's it. What the hell is up with you? You're making breakfast, putting up with every single thing that usually drives you insane! You're scaring me, man."

There was a heavy moment of silence between the two brothers, and Dean knew that he'd won, that Sam was going to crack. "Dean…" His brother started, seeming to have a hard time getting the words out. With every passing second, Dean grew tenser, the anxiety threatening to take over and make Sam spill the beans faster. "Dean, the big show is over. I figured… Maybe we could try to lead normal lives." Dean opened his mouth to interrupt Sam, but his brother motioned for him to keep quiet. "No, just… Just hear me out, okay?" A small nod indicated that Sam could continue. "We've been waiting for Kevin to translate something useful from that tablet for months. I think it's pretty clear that it's just not going to happen. So sent in an application for college, and I just got a reply today. That's why I needed the Impala this morning, I couldn't give them the address of the bunker. I… I got in. I'm going to college, Dean."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your reviews/alerts/favorites! I wrote a few versions of this chapter before settling on this, and I'd love to hear if you think it turned out good!

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><p>College. Sam was going to college. Dean blinked a few times, trying to figure out how to take in this very unexpected piece of information. He'd been ready for just about anything, but this? This had completely snuck up on him. Sam was going to college. Sam was leaving. Again. "Oh, wow, Sammy." He could hear the strain in his own voice, and he knew his brother could, too. "That's… That's great. Freakin' awesome." It didn't take a genius to figure out that Dean didn't mean it. He knew that it wasn't fair, he knew that if Sam saw a way out of this crappy life they led, he should take it, and he wanted the best for his little brother, but he couldn't help the selfish part of him that didn't want Sam to leave, that wanted him by his side for the rest of his life. <em>You and me against the world<em>.

It seemed like that was exactly the reaction Sam had been expecting, for he let out a conforming sigh, shaking his head. "Dean…" He tried, but was quickly stopped.

"No, Sam. You want to go off to college, live a normal, apple pie life, I'm not gonna try to stop you." He couldn't possibly ask his brother to give up on having a normal life, not again. Osiris' words rang in his mind for what he wished he could say was the first time in years: _he'd rather damn you with him than be alone_. The god had been right. Dean had dragged Sam back into the life when he asked him to help him find their father so many years before, and he'd known what he was bringing upon his brother. He couldn't do the same again. Sam might say that it would have happened one way or another, but Dean still blamed himself for it. No, he couldn't be that selfish anymore, no matter how much it hurt to even think about just letting his brother go.

But Sam wasn't going to let the matter rest like that. "It doesn't have to be like it was before." There was a long pause in which Dean supposed his brother waited for him to say something, but he simply didn't have anything to say. Nothing Sam would want to hear, at least. "Dean, we didn't speak for two years. I don't want that. I don't want you to think that I'm walking out on you or something. I'm just going to college."

But it wasn't that simple, not in Dean's mind. Going to college meant no more hunting, it meant Sam was leaving that part of his life behind, and Dean knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would always carry some fraction of the hunting world around with him, bringing it right back into his brother's brand new apple pie life. The same reason he didn't believe he would ever be able to quit hunting was the reason why he wasn't sure he would be able to be an active part of Sam's life if he really left.

"Dean… Say something." There was a slightly worried, slightly pleading tone to Sam's voice, and that was enough to elicit a reaction from Dean.

"No, man. Go to college, find yourself a girl, get a job where you actually get paid, just leave this life behind." The most important words were left unsaid, but they both knew what they were: _leave me behind_. Dean couldn't remember it ever hurting so much to say something, but he knew it was for the best. After everything they'd been through, if Sam managed to find a good life for himself, Dean refused to be the one who brought it all tumbling down when some monster went after his brother and his family for one reason or another. It'd happened before, it could still happen again.

With a sigh, Dean turned away from Sam, heading for the door. His day had just taken a very bad turn (_be happy for Sammy, damn it!_, he scolded himself), and his life could be about to be turned upside down. He needed some time to figure out what he was even feeling. "Where are you going?" Sam asked, a hint of exasperation seeping into his voice.

"Out." Dean replied, raising a hand to stop Sam from objecting. He knew his brother well enough to be able to tell that he wouldn't find his answer anything short of infuriating, but he didn't want to fight. He simply didn't have a better answer, and if he did, he wouldn't want Sam to follow after him. His little brother would want to talk about it, and the last thing Dean needed at that moment was to dissect the issue with a very partial party. "Sam, just… Don't." Almost as an afterthought, he added: "I'll be back later."

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><p>The initial idea had been to just go for a drive, clear his head, then head right back to the bunker, maybe even talk to Sam about him going to college, about where that left them. But the truth was that Dean didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to head back to the bunker. He had half a mind to not head back at all, because then he wouldn't have to see Sam and know that he wouldn't be around his brother for much longer, he wouldn't have to endure the pain of slowly letting go of the most important person in his life - he'd rather just rip the band-aid out, get it over with quickly, but he knew he couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to Sammy, and this time, it wasn't his brother leaving him. No, he was the one saying that he had to close that door.<p>

And that was how Dean ended up sitting at the bar in some run down establishment a few miles from the bunker, stewing in his own thoughts no matter how much he wanted to get away from them. It seemed like that was one problem he couldn't seem to escape even for only a few hours.

"Alright, so what's your story?" The voice snapped Dean out of his thoughts, and he blinked, surprised.

"What?" He asked, finally realizing that it was the bartender who'd spoken to him. He hadn't even noticed that she was standing right in front of him, and it seemed like she'd been studying him for a while.

She gave him a bit of an amused smile before repeating her question. "What's your story? I don't mean to be indelicate, but you look like you've had worse than a crappy day."

That had to be the understatement of the year. Although, he thought, looking back to the beginning of the day, most of it hadn't been that bad. He'd been nervous, on edge, yes, but his brother had done pretty much everything he could to make his day good. It just hadn't been enough for the bombshell he'd dropped on Dean later. He didn't think any amount of bacon and good Sam behavior could make it easier to imagine his life without his brother by his side, even if was partly his own choice. "It's that obvious, huh?" He asked, letting out a humorless chuckle.

"Yeah, pretty much." She gave him a bit of a smirk. "But, hey, don't worry, we get that a lot around here. I was just curious."

Normally, Dean wasn't the sharing type, not with his brother, not with anyone, but that day he couldn't deny that he felt like telling this complete stranger his story. Maybe, just maybe, that would help ease the pain he was already feeling. It was worth a shot. "I've got this brother, I practically raised him, took care of him since he was a baby because our dad travelled a lot. We've been through a lot of crap together. God, I can't believe we're even still alive." He ran a hand through his hair, letting out another humorless chuckle at the thought that this girl couldn't even begin to imagine everything he and his brother had been through. "He wants to try to start a new life for himself, and he says I can still be a part of it, but I… I can't. I'd bring everything he's trying to avoid right to his sparkling new doorstep."

Saying it made it sound even more real, and he felt his chest tighten as he heard the truth of his own words. He couldn't be a part of Sam's life anymore if his brother wanted to leave hunting behind. He simply couldn't.

"So that means I've got to… I don't know, say goodbye. Probably never see him again, and he'll be better off for it, too." He'd only bring danger to Sam's new safe and comfortable life, one that he definitely deserved, one he'd wanted since he was a little boy - he'd started college, he'd quit hunting while Dean was in Purgatory, he'd always wanted normal.

Finally, Dean let out the words that had been ringing in the back his mind since he left the bunker. "I've got to let Sammy go. I don't know how, but I've gotta."

The bartender could only give him a sad smile and offer him another drink.

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><p>It was well past midnight when Dean finally decided to come back to the bunker, figuring that by then Sam would already be asleep and he'd be able to safely sneak his way to his room without bumping into his brother and having to talk to him - he'd be more than happy to postpone that conversation to the next day. He was careful not to make any noise, years of training in being silent enough to take creatures with very sensitive hearing by surprise aiding him, and he made his way through the bunker in the dark, confident that he would make it to his room without any problem. He was wrong.<p>

"Dean?" It was Sam. But where? It wasn't until his brother's laptop whirred back to life and illuminated part of the room that he managed to pinpoint Sam's exact location. It seemed like he'd dozed off while working on something in the living room. "Dean, where were you? It's… It's almost two in the morning."

So much for not having to talk to Sam. "I told you, out." He could have told his brother that he'd gone to a bar, it was nothing new or unexpected, but he just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. "Let's just go to bed, Sam."

But his brother wasn't going to give up that easily. "We have to talk about this, Dean. You can't keep running away." Yes, he could. In fact, that was exactly what he had planned for the days until Sam left. But for now, where this conversation was concerned, he knew there was no escape. There was no way he was getting out of that room without either talking to Sam or starting a fight that could very well last too long.

"There's nothing to talk about. You're going to college, and you're going to have the normal life you've wanted since we were kids. You see that light at the end of the tunnel, Sammy, and that's great. At least one of us should have that." As he spoke, started making his way out of the room, hoping that Sam wouldn't make him stay and face the consequences of his own words. He just wanted to get out of there and go to sleep - hopefully a blank, dreamless sleep.

"You can have that, too, Dean. You spent a year with Lisa, you were happy. You can do that again." There was an almost hopeful tone to Sam's voice that tore into Dean like a hellhound's claws.

He didn't turn around to face his brother as he answered. "No, Sam. It's too late for me."

And with that, he left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Sorry for the late update, I got kind of stuck with this chapter for a while. I hope it's good, and I'd still love to hear what you guys think of it!

So... I edited the document to add a few sentences to the end of the chapter, and it screwed up the coding. Sorry! I went through it already, but I might have missed a few tags because I wanted to update it asap.

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><p>When Dean woke up the next morning, all he wanted was to get himself to go back to sleep. Waking up meant facing Sam, it meant giving up the dream he'd been in, with him and Sammy sitting on the hood of the Impala, just arguing about which Star Wars movie was the best while having some beer, and going out there to reality, to him having to say goodbye to his brother. He'd usually take reality over any fantasy, but couldn't this one last a little longer?<p>

It seemed like hours passed before he finally gave up on falling back asleep and rolled out of bed. This was going to be a very long day, and he knew that. Though throughout the years he'd gotten very good at evading Sam and subjects he didn't wish to discuss, there was only so much he could do considering the fact that they lived in the same house. It was better than a motel room, but far from ideal for dodging his brother.

Taking a deep breath, he left his room and made his way to the kitchen, almost cringing when he saw that Sam was sitting in the exact same spot he'd been before, making it impossible for him to get to the kitchen without calling any attention to himself. It was time to face the music.

"Hey, Dean." Sam greeted him, his eyes barely leaving his laptop. His tone was light, as if nothing had happened between them. For a second, Dean dared to think that maybe it'd all been some really weird dream. "I think I might have gotten us a case in Colorado. Listen to this: small town, three bodies found in the last two days. Guess what else was in the last two days? The full moon"

"So, a werewolf hunt in Colorado. You sure you wanna do that, Sammy? I've got it, you don't have to come if you don't want to." It should be a run-of-the-mill hunt, nothing he couldn't or hadn't handled alone before. Besides, as much as he liked having his brother by his side, someone he trusted to watch his back, someone whose company he enjoyed (for the most part), if Sam was going off to college, he had to start getting used to hunting alone.

But Sam just gave him what seemed to be a carefully disguised eye roll. "I've still got weeks before the term starts, Dean. I might as well do something useful with my time."

Dean's eyes lingered on Sam for a long minute before he nodded. He didn't believe his brother for a second - the years had taught him how to identify when there was more to a story than Sam willing to reveal fairly accurately - but he also knew that he wouldn't get to the bottom of the issue as easily as he'd like, so he'd at least try to play along.

"Alright, then, let's pack and hit the road. We can have breakfast on the way." With that, he turned around and headed back to his room, still wondering why Sam suggested this hunt. Was he still trying to please Dean? He knew his brother could get a little stir crazy at times, and it'd been quite a while, longer than usual, since they'd last worked a case. After the breakfast feast he'd been gifted with the previous day, Dean supposed it'd make sense. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to that story than what met the eye.

Trying to get those thoughts out of his mind and just concentrate on the task at hand, Dean threw a change of clothes plus a few odds and ends he thought they might need into his backpack and closed it, eager to get started on the hunt, even if that meant he would have sit in the car with Sam for a few hours. Truth to be told, he had been getting a little restless just sitting in the bunker with nothing to do. He wasn't made for extended downtimes, that was for sure.

It was only a matter of minutes before they were on the road, awkwardly sitting next to each other, clearly trying to ignore the elephant in the room - in the very, very tiny room. Dean tried switching the radio on, but even Led Zeppelin couldn't mask the clear tension between the two of them, so he quickly turned it off, opting for just trying to concentrate as hard as he could on the road. No matter what he did, however, he couldn't tune out the telltale signs that his brother had something he wanted to say but was doing a conscious effort to remain quiet.

"Share with the class, Sammy." He finally cracked, and the firm grip he hadn't realized he already had on the steering wheel tightened even more.

"His brother let out a long sigh before shaking his head. "No, Dean. You said it yourself, there's nothing to talk about."

It was hard to argue with that. Nice Sammy, he thought, using his own words against him. "Fine, then you can stop it with the doom and gloom mood. It's unnerving." Maybe he was overreacting. He was probably overreacting. But he knew that this might very well turn into one of the worst car rides he'd ever had, and with his father and Sam fighting like cats and dogs throughout most of his brother's teenage years, he didn't have high standards.

"Dean, I'm not the one in a bad mood." Sam pointed out, a look that bordered on amused showing clearly on his face. He wasn't? Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise at the statement, prompting his brother to continue talking. "If I wasn't willing to drive with you all the way to Colorado, I wouldn't have come."

At that, Dean only muttered something that sounded like 'bitch' under his breath, to which Sam gave his usual response of 'jerk', and neither one of them could help the small, almost nostalgic smile that came to their lips.

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><p>By the time they found themselves sitting in a diner, looking over the menu, they still hadn't said another word to each other, and while the silence had been perfectly acceptable at first, it was starting to grow uncomfortable. It was almost a battle to see who could resist the urge of saying something first, and neither brother was willing to lose.<p>

In fact, they were both so concentrated on just reading the menu and not saying a word that they didn't even notice when the waitress walked up to them, beaming at the two with a kilowatt smile that startled them almost as much as her presence did. "May I take your order?" She asked, her tone matching her smile perfectly.

"Yes, please. I'll have a coffee and the blueberry pancakes." Sam ordered.

"Make that two coffees and I'll have a bacon cheeseburger." Dean ignored the waitress' surprised look and just gave her a smile that he was fairly sure would earn him a phone number with his food. Maybe he'd actually call her, meet up once he was done with the case. It was a great excuse to get away from his brother, and he'd get to have a good time, too. It was a good deal.

"Dude, a cheeseburger?" Sam asked, his lecture tone already taking shape in his voice, effectively snapping his brother out his thoughts.

Dean could only shrug. "What? It's almost midday, it's too late for breakfast."

And that was when they both realized they were talking. The battle over, and there were no winners, no losers, just the two of them stepping on dangerous ground. If they were talking, then they could address the elephant in the room, they probably would no matter whether they liked it or not, and Dean didn't want that. He didn't want to have to tell his brother that he wasn't going to be a part of his life after he left for college again.

"Dean… Let's just get through this case like it's any other hunt, okay? I know you don't want to talk about it, and we've got time, so let's just not." Sam proposed, earning himself a hesitant nod from his brother. Dean just couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Sam's easy going attitude than he was letting on. After all, Sam usually forced him to talk about things no matter how clear he made that he wasn't up for it. Why the sudden change of heart? But still, he nodded. He didn't think he could get through this hunt if he didn't.


End file.
